


Till Morning is Nigh

by a_noni_mouse (Blargnaught)



Series: Porn for Porn's Sake [3]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: "Something Made Them Do It" Trope, "Strangers at a Party" AU, Bill is in his twenties, Blow Job, But it's porn so it doesn't really need it, Debateable Dub-con, Dipper is drugged in this, Dipper is fifteen, Drug-Induced Sex, Facials, Frottage (I may be using that word wrong), He disapproves of Dipper's age, I don't actually name Bill until the very end, I don't give a lot of context for this, I'll figure this whole "pacing" thing out eventually, Imaginary Aphrodisiac Drug, M/M, PWP, Pretty sure I emptied the cliche bucket on this one, Public Sex, So many cliches, Tad shows up at the end to chew Bill out, although I don't mention it outright, because it amused me, so I guess this also counts as anonymous sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 05:20:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5444693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blargnaught/pseuds/a_noni_mouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dipper glanced up at the man's face and met his eyes; He was watching him with an intensity that made Dipper whimper. His cheeks were flushed a bright pink, his lips moving as he continued to speak, a litany of praise and filthy promises that made Dipper's stomach turn with lust and excitement."</p><p>Dipper goes to one of the Northwest's Christmas parties, and winds up enjoying himself more than he initially expected.</p><p>Written for #100 from the 100 Sexual Themes List.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Morning is Nigh

**Author's Note:**

> I can't A) write blow jobs. B) Write dialogue/Dirty talk/fluff scenes before and after sex to save my life. C) Depict real people emotions (they're hard) or D) Write. But hey, here you go anyway. And besides all of that, I'm actually pretty proud of this one! It turned out only a little bit shy of the word count I was aiming for, and I don't feel like it's nearly as bad as some of the other ones I've written. Improvement!
> 
> This was written for #100 from the 100 sexual themes list: Sex Pollen/Aphrodisiac/Aliens made Them Do It, although I never actually state in the fic that that is what is going on. Well, not outright anyway.
> 
> I should probably edit this some more but honestly I'm kind of sick of looking at it. I'll be embarrassed in the morning. Until then, if you guys see anything that sounds odd/needs fixing/is spelled wrong/doesn't grammar, let me know. Knowing is half the battle, and practice is the other half. Enjoy!
> 
> Additional Note: This has an...add on? Not really a sequel, more like an "after the party from Bill's POV." I started it almost immediately after finishing this, but it's only about 60% completed (because I am slow and have a short attention span), but if you want to read that 60-ish%, its on my Dreamwidth. https://rainydaypuddle.dreamwidth.org/ It's #37.

Parties at Northwest Manor were always something of a spectacle, but this one was about as  
over the top and pretentious as a party could be out in the middle of nowhere: Garlands covered  
almost every surface, speckled with colorful little bulbs and delicate crystal ornaments etched  
with designer names. The enormous ballroom was practically dripping with tinsel and holly and  
fresh, live evergreen boughs. There were no less than eight fully decorated, twelve foot Christmas  
trees tastefully positioned in the front hall and the ballroom. Women in colorful party dresses and  
men in somber tuxedos clustered around the floor in groups or danced to live orchestral  
renditions of popular Christmas carols, and an entire wall had been taken over by a buffet of roast  
meats, pies and Christmas candies and cookies. 

All in all, it looked like Santa's workshop and a Christmas tree farm had had a baby, and that  
baby had thrown up on everything. 

_Everything._

Dipper was trying very hard not to be impressed. He hadn't wanted to come in the first place,  
trusting neither Pacifica nor her parents after the last time he had been invited over, but Mable  
had never been able to resist a party and she had refused to go without her twin. They had fought  
about it, but at the end of the day the invitation had been addressed to him and his plus one, and  
so rather than risk his sister's tears he found himself stuffed inside of an uncomfortably stiff,  
cheap suit and shoved into their Great Uncle's old car. 

Pacifica hadn't been anywhere in sight when they had arrived. Dipper was disappointed, but not  
really surprised; He had been on almost-friendly terms with her for years, but any potential  
friendship he might have had with her was spoiled by her continued distaste for his sister, and  
with Mable at his side Pacifica was sure to stay as far away as she could. Not that Mable  
actually stayed with him for very long: his dark mood hadn't jived very well with her festive cheer,  
and she had run off immediately to flirt with some immaculately dressed socialite, leaving Dipper  
to loiter awkwardly in the corner with a glass of champagne that he was still far to young to  
legally drink and a dark, sulky feeling sitting heavily in the pit of his stomach. And that was  
probably how he would have spent the entirety of the party if it hadn't been for The Man. 

He was only a little taller than Dipper with short blond curls and a suit that had obviously been  
made to fit the curves of his body like a very expensive glove. He had a clean shaven, clever face  
with high cheek bones, a thin mouth and eyes so blue Dipper could see their color from several  
feet away. He flitted from group to group, occasionally dancing but usually chatting, shaking  
hands, kissing knuckles and generally leaving trails of blushing, tittering people in his wake. 

Dipper found himself following the man with his eyes first, watching him for a little bit of  
entertainment on an otherwise super dull night. When the man moved on to a group of people  
just out of Dipper's line of sight, Dipper moved along the wall until he could see him again. He  
wasn't the only one doing so -- the man looked like the kind of guy who liked to be the life of the  
party, and he was certainly making waves. Eyes followed every move he made, envious,  
admiring, amused, bored and lustful. He spoke with wide, sweeping gestures and his laugh  
carried through the room, even over the music. After a while people began to gravitate towards  
him until he had amassed a decently sized following of people. 

Dipper kept the man in sight, but kept his distance, not wanting to get tangled up in the crowd  
like some kind of groupie. He was content to skulk in peace and admire the way the charcoal  
slacks cupped the man's ass just so or how the fake candle light glinted off of his hair. It was ok  
to stare a little, he reasoned, because the man was obviously not the kind of person that wanted  
to be stared at. 

If his night had continued on like that, he might have gotten some small amount of enjoyment  
out of it, gone home and never consented to go to one of Pacifica's parties ever again. This was  
not what happened. 

He had been stalking the handsome man for the better part of an hour when things started to go  
a little...funny. 

_'Funny'_ probably wasn't the right word for the situation: _'Funny'_ was how a pie tasted when  
Grunkle Stan accidentally used salt instead of sugar. _'Funny'_ was Mable tripping up a set of  
stairs because she insisted on wearing heels longer than Dipper's hand. 

'Funny' was _not_ the sweeping sensation of vertigo that hit him without warning somewhere  
between the handsome stranger catching his eye across the crowd and Dipper tripping dizzily  
through one of the massive doorways and into the deserted front hall. 'Funny' was _not_ the heady  
heat that caught him off guard, made his heart beat faster in his chest and his inexpensive  
slacks tighten in an embarrassing way. 

'Funny' was _not_ inexplicably becoming majorly horny in front of everyone at a fancy party  
surrounded by rich and fancy people. No, the proper word for that was _nightmarish._

Dipper tucked himself into the shadows were the staircase to the second floor met the wall and  
ran trembling hands over his cheeks. Either his fingers were freezing, he thought, of his face was  
as red as a tomato. Possibly both. He shot a withering glance at his crotch and the painfully  
obvious outline of his cock straining the fabric. His dick twitched, aching to be touched and  
uncaring of Dipper's mood or location. 

He needed to find a bathroom or, even better, make it back to the room he had been assigned for  
the night before someone saw him. He took a quick look around to make sure that no one was in  
the area and tried to adjust himself in his pants so that his erection would at least be marginally  
less conspicuous if he ran into anyone en rout. He was not expecting the wave of sensation that  
crashed over him when he touched his cock. The stimulation, even through the layers of fabric,  
was stronger than anything he had ever experienced before. He gasped and grasped at the wall  
as his knees buckled. When he jerked his hand away his hips twitched, chasing the friction. 

_What the hell?!_ he thought, surprised and disconcerted. He knew that the hormones of a fifteen  
year old were nothing to laugh at, and he understood that random and embarrassingly timed  
erections happened to people his age. But this was strange; He had jerked off lord knew how  
many times since hitting puberty but he had never been so sensitive to a simple touch. 

"What the f-fuck?" He stuttered out loud, as if there were anyone around to answer him.  
That...had to have been some kind of fluke or...or....maybe he had had too much to drink? Was  
this why other people were so taken with the idea of alcohol? He had had a few beers before, but  
he couldn't recall ever having a reaction like this. 

He took a quick look around and, seeing no one, he pressed his fingertips curiously against the  
hot mound of flesh. The sensation made him inhale sharply through his nose. Greedily, unable to  
help himself, he flattened his hand against the erection and rubbed himself with his palm. It felt  
so good, and he moaned. 

He needed to get somewhere more private, he thought, even as he squeezed himself more  
tightly through his slacks. A knot of heat was growing in his belly and he suddenly felt light  
headed. His fingers and toes tingled and his head buzzed. Every part of him was begging for  
more friction. Everything around him was blurring and the more he touched himself, the less  
anything else mattered. It had never been this _good_ before. 

He thought he heard the sound of a voice somewhere nearby, and, reminded that he was in a  
public area, he tried to push himself up off of the wall. He needed to go. He needed...he  
needed.... 

He rubbed his thumb over the head of his penis and moaned again as heat crashed through him  
like a wave. Fuck it. Fuck it fuck it fuck it. The voices were unimportant. The fact that he was  
barely hidden from sight was unimportant. What was important, was his need to get off right the  
fuck now -- every part of him excepting some small, oxygen starved bit of his brain was insisting  
that he pull his dick out and touch himself until he came all over the ridiculously expensive wood  
paneling in front of him. His fingers danced across the tab of his zipper, ran up and down the  
teeth and he keened softly, unable to stop himself. 

"Ah, there you are." The voice behind him was a little high but silky with amusement. It wasn't  
quite a bucket of cold water to the simmering heat just under his skin. More like an ice cube that  
stung with cold but was quickly consumed. His hand paused what it was doing, but he couldn't  
quite still the desperate rocking motion that his hips insisted on making. The voice was vaguely  
familiar, and a handsome face with electric blue eyes came instantly to mind. Something  
uncomfortable clenched in his gut, even as his penis surged with a new wave of arousal. He  
didn't want to turn around, but then again, he did. He didn't want the even footsteps behind him to  
be real, but the idea of putting on a show stoked the flame to a roaring fire. He didn't want it to be  
the blond man from the party, but at the same time he really, really hoped that it was. 

He peeked over his shoulder and felt his heart sink and his pulse jump. 

The man was standing a few feet away, champagne flute in hand, smiling at Dipper as if he  
wasn't humping his hand in the corner of an exposed hallway. "I had wondered where you had  
run off to." The man set his glass down on a nearby table. The movement shifted his well tailored  
suit around his body in a way that made Dipper's mouth go dry. 

"I-I...um..." Dipper stuttered. The heady burn of arousal made his voice breathy. It was as if all of  
the air had been squeezed from his lungs. Humiliation heated his face, and still his dick  
demanded his attention, aching in its confines. The sudden appearance of the person that  
Dipper had been admiring all night shouldn't have had him rutting desperately into his hand, but it  
did. The embarrassment alone should have killed the boner instantly, but it hadn't. "I'm sorry." He  
moaned, his fingers tightening spastically around his aching dick. He needed to get away, but he  
needed _more, more, more...._ "I d-don't know what's wrong with me, I-" 

To his surprise the man made a gentle shushing nose and slid up behind him, trapping him  
between the wall and his body. A cool hand brushed against his heated forehead and carded  
soothingly through his hair. 

"I can't believe that asshole's plan worked." He muttered under his breath. Dipper blinked,  
vaguely confused by the non-sequitur, but, frankly, to distracted by the man's sudden proximity  
to care. 

The fingers that weren't tangled in Dipper's curls grasped gently at his hip and turned him so that  
his back was pressed to the wooden panels of the wall behind him. "Sorry." the man said for no  
apparent reason, not sounding particularly sorry at all. His thumb brushed a slow circle over the  
waist of Dipper's slacks, then slipped from his hip to palm the boner tenting the fabric on Dipper's  
inner thigh. Dipper was completely unable to stop the desperate little noise he made in  
response, and any questions he might have had about the situation were buried under the  
sudden wave of _oh my god yes._

"You like that?" The man said, rubbing small circles into the fabric. Dipper nodded so fast that he  
nearly banged his head against the wall. "Then how about I help you out." 

"Please..." Dipper begged, eyes wide. The man's mouth curled in a way that was positively  
sinful. "Please." Dipper repeated desperately, pushing himself into the man's hand. The man  
grasped his erection firmly through his pants and Dipper keened. 

"Oh that's a beautiful noise." The man chuckled low in his throat, shifting closer so that he could  
nudge Dipper's legs apart with his thigh. "There, how about that?" He asked. His breath tickled  
Dipper's ear as he leaned in closer, sandwiching Dipper between the wall and his chest. One of  
his hands grasped a handful of Dipper's ass and used his handhold to force Dipper's hips to  
move, grinding his erection firmly into his leg. "Good?" 

"Yes, I- yes!" Dipper murmured, picking up the motion eagerly. It was wonderful, the friction  
against his dick driving him mad. _More more more more more._ He stared up at the man with  
glazed, worshipful eyes, fucking shamelessly against the hard muscle pressing against him in  
time to the desperate pulse in his ears. His hands grasped fistfuls of the man's perfectly tailored  
suit, clinging so hard his fingers began to ache. "Oh god I'm so- I don't know why I'm....I- fuck  
more! Please!" He babbled. In a far off, distant kind of way a tiny voice screamed that this man  
was at least in his twenties. They didn't know eachothers' names. This kind of horniness wasn't  
normal, even for a particularly healthy teenager. As soon as whatever this was passed, he was  
going to die of embarrassment. But for once in his life he was too turned on to care about future  
what ifs, and the voice was all but lost over the pounding of blood in his ears and the demand for  
more more more more in tempo with his fluttering heartbeat. 

"There you go. Good boy." The man was murmuring. The hand on Dipper's ass slid into his  
slacks to knead his bare flesh and the hand still buried in his hair pulled his head back so that  
the man could nuzzle into the exposed skin of his throat. He shifted a bit and Dipper felt  
something firm press against his hip. "Keep it up, just like that." He encouraged. "We'll get that  
problem of yours taken care of, kid. Just keep....that's right." Dipper whimpered. The knot in his  
belly was tightening, blazing white hot, stoked by the man's words in his ear and his fingers and  
lips on his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, mouth hanging open so he could suck in air.  
Everything was too much -- too hot, so close too tight too desperate too good so good _oh god so  
good! _

"Fuck kid, you look so wrecked right now." The man's breath was a wet-hot brand against his  
skin, encouraging him, egging him on. Sharp, sweet nips of pain followed his mouth down to the  
collar of his stupid tux and then back up to his jaw. "The best kind of pornography. You're  
desperate for it -- god that stuff worked even better than I thought it would. Saw you watching  
me, by the way. Made it hard to concentrate, I kept wondering what your face would look like  
with my cum on it. Maybe we should try that next...end tonight with my spunk splattered across  
that cute little nose of yours, what do you say?" 

"Ok." Dipper groaned, barely hearing the words, just the lusty tone of the man's voice. "Ok,  
anything, just please don't move!" 

"I don't plan on it, kid." The man muttered, nipping at the tender skin stretched over Dipper's  
fluttering pulse. Dipper whined, hips stuttering, falling out of their desperate rhythm. He hadn't  
thought that he would be into biting, but apparently he was wrong. 

"Again!" He begged. The man practically purred against his throat before sinking his teeth into  
the flesh with enough force to bruise. The pain was a sharp heat, the sensation flooding Dipper's  
body with a sweat burning sensation that went straight to his dick. His hips ground desperately  
into the man's thigh once, twice and then orgasm hit, tearing through his body with a force he  
had never experienced before. He lost his breath and for one glorious moment nothing else  
existed but the sweet pleasure of release. 

"Oh...my...god." He gasped when he could breath again, punctuating each word with a few last,  
weak thrusts before stilling completely, panting into the man's shoulder. Slowly the tide of  
pleasure rolling through him receded into rippling waves. He leaned back against the wall, held  
up more by the man's hands and leg than his own ability. He fully expected the warm exhaustion  
he normally experienced after cumming, but as the last of the aftershocks faded they left behind  
a nervous tension that had both nothing and everything to do with the awkward position he was  
pinned in. He met the man's eyes-- the first time he had looked him in the face since he had  
appeared behind him -- and nearly sobbed when his dick jerked, a weakened but still potent  
surge of lust trickling across his awareness. 

The man smiled as if he knew. His expression was hungry and it reminded Dipper of a predator  
looking at its next meal. He thought that it should have scared him. Instead, he felt the heat in  
his belly flicker and blaze back to life. It was nowhere near its former intensity, but it was still an  
insistent and unsatisfied tightness knotting him up from the inside. He wanted...no, he had to  
have more. He gulped. _Again,_ something dark and primal whispered. _More. Again. Please!_

"That was quite the show." The man murmured, voice husky with arousal. He pressed his hips  
forward, the iron hard line of his own erection pressing into Dipper's leg. The hand in his hair  
pushed gently but firmly on his head. "How about returning the favor though, huh? After all, we  
had a deal." For a moment Dipper hesitated, wondering exactly how his life had managed to take  
such a bizarre turn and wishing that he could bring himself to care, but just the idea of watching  
the man reach his own release made dick ache. He wasn't softening at all, he realized. If  
anything, it felt like he was getting harder. 

He let the man push him to his knees. "I've never done this before." He warned. His voice shook  
a little, but he couldn't tell if it was from the dull jangle of nerves or the rising inner tempo of more  
more more. 

"That's ok. It's not hard." The man said, then giggled softly, muttering "that's what she said."  
under his breath. Dipper shot him and incredulous look and the man winked, eyes crinkling at  
the corners when he smiled. 

On his knees he was face to face with the man's erection. He had felt it against him but he  
hadn't really noticed how hard his companion was, consumed in achieving his own relief. Now, he  
couldn't help but feel a little proud of himself as he stared at the straining tent in the front of the  
man's slacks; The idea that anyone could be this hard from something that he had done made  
him feel warm with lust and a small touch of pride. 

The hand in his hair stayed gently tangled in his curls, holding his head close to the man's  
crotch. The other undid the button on his slacks and pulled the zipper down. The harsh scratch  
made Dipper's dick jump. His breathing sped up again in anticipation. 

The man wasn't wearing underwear. He parted his fly, shimmying the fabric down his hips just  
enough that he could reach in and pull his penis out. Dipper heard him breath a small noise of  
relief when the organ finally bobbed free. It jutted close enough to Dipper's face that the tip,  
flushed dark red with blood and damp with pre-cum, just barely brushed the seam of his lips. The  
man took himself in hand and dragged his dick gently over Dipper's mouth, smearing the leaking  
fluid on his skin. 

"Want to open up for me?" The man asked. He pressed forward a bit more insistently and Dipper  
parted his lips to let him in. "Good boy." The man purred. "Fold your lips over your teeth." Dipper  
followed the instructions and the man fed him his cock slowly, pushing into his mouth inch by  
inch as if savoring the sensation. When he was about halfway in he paused. 

"This comfortable?" He asked. Dipper blinked up at him. It wasn't uncomfortable: The man's  
penis was a thick, heavy weight on his tongue. It tasted like skin and sweat and something a bit  
more concentrated and salty that Dipper assumed was semen. His lips were stretched around  
the girth of it and the tip was brushing the roof of his mouth. He hummed an affirmative and the  
man sighed, fingers tightening in his hair. 

"Good." He said. "Don't want to choke you; That could get messy for both of us." He carded his  
fingers through Dipper's hair again, rubbing gentle circles into his scalp. "Ok, here's what you do  
kid." He wrapped his fingers around the bit of his dick that Dipper didn't have. "Use your tongue  
and suck. Don't worry about moving your head or anything like that. Get my attention if you need  
to stop. Got that?" He waited for Dipper's affirmative, pulled his dick out until only the tip was  
inside, then pushed back in. 

He rocked his hips slowly at first. Dipper pressed the tip of his tongue against the vein on the  
underside and tried to work out how he was supposed to move his tongue and suck at the same  
time. 

"A bit harder than that." The man breathed. He pushed into Dipper's mouth a little faster. Dipper  
flattened his tongue and pushed the muscle upwards so that the man's cock was pressed  
between it and the roof of his mouth. He could feel the veins and ridges standing out on the hard  
flesh. 

"There you go." The man said. Dipper hummed, reaching up to grab the man's wrist -- not to  
stop him, that was the last thing he wanted to do, but because Dipper desperately felt like he  
needed something to hold onto, a point of contact to keep him grounded against the light, heady  
feeling of arousal that was once again sweeping through him. Every time he had imagined what  
his first sexual encounter might be like he had always pictured some faceless kid his age.  
Maybe it would be a quick fumble at school, in the locker room, at home during a 'study date.'  
This was so much more than he had ever pictured. This close he could smell the spice of the  
man's cologne and the polish he had used on his shoes and underneath that, something  
muskier that Dipper thought might be the man's natural scent. 

"Suck a little more." The man muttered. Clumsily, Dipper did as he was told. His jaw was  
beginning to ache a little but he powered through it, determined to at least make a decent effort  
despite his lack of experience. At one point, his ran his tongue along the underside of the man's  
head, flicking his tongue over the tip and the man moaned loudly. The sound went straight to  
Dipper's own cock and he fumbled desperately with the fly of his slacks. 

"That!" The man hissed. "Do that again." So Dipper did, one-handedly wrestling his dick out of  
the confines of his pants and jerking himself off desperately to the symphony of small, breathy  
moans the man above him made. Like before, his penis was overly sensitive to his touch and  
now, post orgasm, the head was even more tender, every stroke bringing immense pleasure  
tempered by a mild bite of pain. 

The man's thrusts sped up. Saliva leaked down Dipper's chin and dripped onto his tie. The wet,  
sloppy noises the man's cock made as it slid in and out of his mouth were obscene. Dipper  
sucked and laved the man with his tongue like his life depended on it, enjoying the silky slid of  
skin against his raw, stretched lips and the pinpricks of pain in his scalp where the man's hand  
had twisted in his hair. Above him, the man was mumbling quietly, half to himself and half to  
Dipper, interrupting his own statements with gasps or moans. 

"You're a fast learner, kid. I -- shit -- you should see yourself. Should take a picture. Your lips  
around my -- hrng, Fuck!...." 

Dipper glanced up at the man's face and met his eyes; He was watching him with an intensity  
that made Dipper whimper. His cheeks were flushed a bright pink, his lips moving as he  
continued to speak, a litany of praise and filthy promises that made Dipper's stomach turn with  
lust and excitement. Dipper's penis, already damp with his ejaculation, was leaking pre-cum  
again, and over the man's noises he could hear the slick sounds of his hand as he stroked  
himself, racing towards completion far faster than he would have thought possible. 

"Wait." The man grunted. He tugged a little forcefully on Dipper's hair, and Dipper moaned again.  
"Wait wait wait. I'm going to..." 

He pulled his dick all the way out of Dipper's mouth with a lewd pop and began to jack himself  
off. Dipper tried to move his head back but the hand in his hair held him firmly in place. 

_He's going to come on my face._ Dipper realized, heart slamming against his ribs. _He's really going to do it._ He  
jerked his own cock faster, eagerly. The man's hand tightened painfully in his hair. 

"So fucking hot." He muttered. He was leaning over Dipper now. "God I want to take you home  
and fuck you until you can't walk. Want to bury my dick in your ass until you scream-" his hips  
jerked and he groaned lowly as he came. The first stripe of semen hit Dipper's left cheek in a  
thick, hot rope. The second landed across the bridge of his nose. He could feel it sliding down  
his skin. A drop skirted around his upper lip and slid down to his chin, and the physical  
sensation was enough to make Dipper come hard on the floor between the man's expensive  
shoes. This time his release was followed by a warm afterglow, melting all of the tension from  
his body like a hot bath. He slumped like a puppet with its strings cut, feeling muscles that he  
hadn't even known that he had relax. 

The man stroked himself a couple more times, the last of his semen dribbling out over his  
fingers. He pressed his twitching penis against Dipper's face and pulled the head through the  
cooling mess on his cheek, smearing it. 

"You should see yourself, kid." He said, laughing breathlessly. He pulled the organ over the  
bridge of Dipper's nose and across to his other cheek, painting him with his semen the way an  
artist might with paint and a brush. Dipper tilted his head so that he could lick the fluid from the  
man's dick and fingers. It was so salty, and a bit bitter in large amounts. He made a face at the  
taste. The man laughed again. It was a warm sound, breathy and spent and it made Dipper smile  
to know that he had done that to another human being. 

The two of them spent a long moment in comfortable silence, smiling stupidly at each other as  
the endorphins from their mutual orgasms worked their way through their systems. Dipper had  
expected something like horror or revulsion or at the very least embarrassment to rear its ugly  
head the minute he was out from under whatever spell had been cast on him, but it was hard to  
work up the negative emotions when the man was beaming down at him as if he had just won  
some kind of prize. Dipper, for his part, beamed right back, enjoying the low, buzzing warmth  
floating through him. Well, so what if the man in front of him was a complete stranger? Did it  
really matter, in the long run, if both parties had enjoyed it? 

_No,_ he thought. _No, this is good._

"You know-" The man started, but a voice from the staircase directly above their heads cut him  
off, breaking the quiet contentment they had wrapped themselves in like a balloon pricked with a  
needle. 

"Bill, you asshole, where the fuck are you?!" The voice was deep, rich, and very, very annoyed. It  
was also followed immediately by footsteps. Dipper realized with a thrill of horror that he had  
somehow managed to completely forget that they were in a very public, very exposed hallway,  
where anyone just walking by could spot them. _Shit._

The last of Dipper's post sex haze vanished, and oh, there it was, a cold knot of dread leaping to  
his throat. He glanced up at the stranger, panicked -- they were about to be caught fucking in  
public and he would get thrown out and his sister would never let him live down the time he got  
them both banned from Pacifica's house for life because he _couldn't keep it in his fucking  
pants....!_ to his surprise though, the stranger just sighed, shooting the foot of the stairs an  
annoyed look. 

"I'm right here, Tad." He said, voice loud enough to carry. He caught Dipper's look of horror and  
winked, running his finger's soothingly through his hair and clumsily tucking his penis back into  
his pants with his other hand. Dark hair appeared over the banister, followed by a head and then  
a body rounding the foot of the staircase. The man -- tall and handsome, broad shouldered with  
a trim waist and legs that went on for miles -- froze when he caught sight of them, eyes  
widening. Dipper was painfully aware that he was kneeling on the floor between the stranger's  
(Bill's?) legs, covered in cum with his dick hanging out, but when he tried to stand Bill tightened  
his grip in Dipper's hair and held him in place. 

"Bill." The man's voice was balanced somewhere between exasperated and furious. He was  
pinching the bridge of his nose. "I have a lot of questions right now, but I think the most  
important one is _'how old is he?'"_

"I dunno." Bill said lazily. He glanced down at Dipper. "Hey kid," he said "how old are you?" 

"Uh." Dipper glanced between the two and for a brief moment his eyes met the dark haired  
man's -- Tad's. They were a clear, pale green that contrasted attractively with his short, pitch  
colored hair. He was just as handsome as Bill, and he was looking at Dipper with a mixture of  
offense and disgust. Dipper's face burned with humiliation the likes of which he had never felt  
before. He tried to turn his head but Bill would not let him. "Fifteen?" he squeaked. It occurred to  
him belatedly, when Tad's expression clouded darkly, that maybe he should have lied. 

_"Fifteen?"_ Tad hissed, glaring at the blond. Bill shrugged. 

"I didn't ask first." He said. His voice was relaxed, completely at odds with the almost painful  
way he was holding onto Dipper's hair. 

I feel like I'm being shown off Dipper thought crossly, then wondered if that wasn't the case when  
Tad's eyes flicked back to him, looking him up and down. 

"He doesn't even look like he shaves." The man snarled. Dipper wrinkled his nose, a little  
offended (he didn't shave yet, but that wasn't the point). The semen turning tacky on his face  
pulled at his skin, reminding him that hey! it was there and he probably looked like a literal cum  
dumpster at that moment. 

"Ok." He said. His voice barely came out as a whisper. Neither man seemed to hear him, so he  
cleared his throat and tried again. "H-hey." his voice broke pitifully, but Tad's eyes snapped back  
to him. They were, he reflected, very nice eyes and he really wished the owner didn't look like he  
wanted to kill him. His gut swooped uncomfortably, and this time it was very much not from  
arousal. "Ok," He took a deep, unsteady breath "so, I'm kneeling in the middle of a hallway and I  
really don't want anyone else to see me like this and my knees are starting to hurt and I'd really  
like to wipe my face off so can I please get up now?" 

Bill blinked at him, then, slowly, removed his hand from Dipper's hair. Tad sighed. 

"All you had to do was ask." Bill said, grinning. Dipper thought that that was probably a lie, but  
decided not to hold a grudge when Bill offered him a hand up. His knees protested painfully  
when he let himself be hauled to his feet. 

"Thank you." He mumbled, tucking himself back into his pants. He was trying very hard not to  
look at Tad, now that he had a choice. 

"For you, anytime." Bill said warmly, grinning and ruffling his hair and despite everything else,  
Dipper couldn't help the small smile that wormed its way onto his face. 

"Stop flirting." Tad said coldly. "You had one job, Bill, and you left me to do it so you could _fuck a  
minor." _

"I didn't know he was a minor." Bill said breezily. "Plausible deniability, man." His hand lingered  
in Dipper's hair, fingers stroking his scalp soothingly. Slowly, Dipper began to relax. "It was fun  
though. We should do it again sometime. But until then" he cast a glance at the doorway to the  
ball room, ignoring his companion's vehement 'No!' "we should probably get lost before  
everyone else comes -- haha, ahem -- to their senses." 

"That's probably the first sensible thing you've said, ever." Tad muttered. Dipper could feel his  
eyes on the back of his neck, but he refused to look. He wondered briefly who he was to Bill,  
then decided just as quickly that it didn't matter and he didn't care. He gently disentangled  
himself from Bill's hands and started to edge around the two, still trying to avoid eye contact with  
Tad. 

"Um. Ok. I am going to find a restroom and wash my face." Dipper said awkwardly. He glanced  
up at Bill, and smiled a small, genuine smile. "Thank you. Um, for your help. I...enjoyed....I mean.  
I had fun." His face burned, and he looked back down at his shoes. "Uh. Yeah." When he wasn't  
desperately horny, he was desperately lame. This was why he didn't get laid more often. Or ever. 

"Hey, for someone as adorable as you? Any time." Bill said winking. "Maybe we'll bump into  
each other again!" 

Dipper's last glimpse of the two before he hurried around the staircase in search of a working  
faucet and some privacy, was of Tad smacking Bill hard on the shoulder.


End file.
